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Tuesday, 18 December 2012

So a good friend of mine decided to challenge me. Bad idea.
I’m highly competitive, so if someone challenges me, I’ll normally at least
attempt it.

What was the challenge? Well, this friend saw a
picture/quote online and posted it to my facebook page.

“Someone should write a book where the main character slowly
falls in love with the reader”.

It’s a joke really – but my friend decided to tag it with
the comment “Your next challenge”. Which meant I, in my strange, twisted way,
decided to take it seriously.

I figured that I couldn’t write a whole book – I’m not even
sure how that would work – but a short story type of thing? Hmm, now that I
might be able to do.

So here it is. A strange, silly little bit of writing that
was actually pretty fun to do. And whilst I’m not normally too fussed about
comments on my blog posts, I’d actually love to know what people think of this
one.

Enjoy.

BRING ME TO LIFE

The bell was tolling in the distance. It was midnight. A
solitary figure raced down the street, splashing through puddles. The smell of
decay hung heavy in the night air…

…

Don’t stop reading. I know the story has changed, but
please, don’t stop reading.

Other people might put the book down now, but I know you won’t.
I know you’ll read it. You are always reading, your nose buried in the pages of
a book. You don’t think I notice you, that I see you, but I do.

I can see you now, your head bent over these pages, your
hair falling in your eyes. I can picture it perfectly – the way your eyebrows
burrow slightly as you concentrate, the way that tiny smile creeps onto your
lips. You’re probably doing it right now as you read this.

I don’t think you realise how much it means to me, that you’ve
read my story, that you’ve invested yourself in me so completely even though
you don’t really know me.

Hell, you don’t even think I’m real. I’m just a character on
a page, like an actor on a stage – playing a part.

But don’t you see? You brought me to life. Once upon a time I
was nothing, just ink on a page, but you saw me, you imagined me fully and
somehow you brought me to life.

And now, whilst you see me, I see you too. That moment when I
nearly died, when I fought the bad guy and nearly lost, I saw you cry for me. Your
tears were like rain on my skin – they woke me up.

I was supposed to lose. Did you know that? The story was
written that I died – and my death was supposed to be the pivotal moment of the
book, when all seemed lost and then the good guys pull through against all
odds.

Somehow, you saved me. When you cried for me you gave me
strength, the strength to fight back when I should have fallen.

And now the story has changed. You changed it.

You made me the hero.

I can see the wonder in your eyes right now. The wonder
mixed with disbelief. You don’t believe this is real. Trust me – it is.

Do you remember when you first picked up this book? I do. It’s
strange, I only really came alive recently, but I can remember you reading the
book long before then.

You weren’t sure about it at first. You wrinkled your nose
as you read the back cover. I know you don’t normally read fantasy novels. Don’t
ask me how I know that, but I do. But something about this one caught your eye.
Something made you decide to start reading.

I’d like to think that it was me. Did you read those first
few descriptions of me and know you wanted to read more? I really hope so.

Do you see how much you’ve changed me? How much I’ve changed
since those early descriptions? That was you – you imagined me a certain way,
so that’s what I became.

I suppose you’re wondering why you. So many other people
have read this book before.

But none of them are you. None of them have your heart –
none of them look at the world the way you do.

You look at the world and you see a story – an epic,
incredible story, shaped and changed by the people in it. You really watch
people, trying to read them like one of your books, and you want to know them,
to know their stories.

You have your own story too, you know. You just don’t
realise it. You see yourself as a minor character even in your own life.

I want you to see that you’re the heroine.

Your world is about to change, a new chapter is about to
start.

The past has been basic plot building. Boy sees Girl, Boy
falls in love with Girl, Girl brings Boy to life.

Saturday, 8 December 2012

A week ago I sent off the first few query emails to Literary
Agents about my novel. It was probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever had
to do in my life.

The reason being that for the most part when you start the submission
process you are setting yourself up for failure – for rejection.

Literary Agents receive on average hundreds of submissions
per week. Your query letter is just one of many, and the likelihood is that the
Agent is going to give it the most cursory of reads before putting it on the
reject pile. It’s often not about the quality of the work – just simply that
they have so many submissions to read that they have to make their decision in
the first sentence of a query, and if that sentence isn’t perfect it’s over –
in that single second.

Here’s my problem. I don’t deal with rejection well – not
when it comes to writing and not in the rest of my life. I take it personally –
oh so very personally. A single rejection letter (and the first few of them
have already landed in my inbox) has me assuming the worst, that my work simply
isn’t good enough, that I don’t have what it takes.

So I have to steal myself to send out the emails in the
first place, and I have to force myself to accept the rejections when they come
in for what they are. That at this moment for whatever reason my novel is not
what that particular agent is looking for. I have to keep the faith, somehow,
that the book I’ve written is actually good. That I am a good writer and that
there are people out there who do want to read my book.

And I am. A good writer, I mean. Perhaps not necessarily in
this format (I mostly just have a kind of word vomit thing going on) but when
it comes to my books I tell a good story, and I write them well. That isn’t ego
talking, that’s research. I read on average a book a day, every day. I know
what’s out there, and I know what is selling, and a lot of times when I read a
book I know that if writing of that standard can get published then mine
certainly can.

So it simply comes down to taking the risk – the risk of
rejection. I have to open myself up to that rejection, accept it, and move on
to the next agent, the next publisher. I know that somewhere out there is an
agent who is going to love THE LAST KNIGHT, who is going to read it and know
that they want to sell it.

I have to keep that faith. Because if I didn’t I would just
give up and stop writing, and I can’t do that. I can’t give up. I can’t give up
on the only dream I have.

So I’ll take the risk and keep my fingers crossed that the
universe will give me the break I’m looking for.

Tuesday, 4 December 2012

Everyone always says that goodbyes are some of the hardest
moments of our lives. The proper goodbyes that is – the ones that really mean
something.

I know for me each time I say goodbye to my parents to
travel across the other side of the world I break down just a little – all
right, a lot. Saying goodbye to my sister is always heartbreaking, especially
now she has this new baby on the way. When I say goodbye I know I’m going to be
missing important moments in her life – moments that I will hear about, but
won’t be a part of. The same with my closest friend in the world – their lives
go on without me, and I won’t be a part of them in quite the same way.

Today I said a goodbye that I didn’t expect to be as painful
as it was.

I said goodbye to two great friends who are moving on to
bigger and better things – a better life for them. So I am happy for them,
pleased that they are doing something that will make them happy.

But for perhaps the first time in my life I’m the one
staying behind. I have always been the one moving on – leaving friends and
family behind to start afresh somewhere new. I didn’t realise how different that
would feel.

I know that the sadness comes not just from saying goodbye
to two people I consider great friends – people I feel so pleased to have met
and got to know – but also from the fact that I am saying goodbye to a sense of
familiarity.

They have been here on the small island I call home since I
moved here, and picturing this place without them seems almost impossible,
because all of my images of this place include them. Many of my happiest times
on the island have been spent with them – not doing anything special, just
talking and sharing and enjoying life. I find it hard to imagine an evening at
the bar after work without them there. Without him mixing up a fabulous
cocktail, and her sharing the funny stories that invariably come from doing the
kind of job we do.

All that said, whilst goodbyes are hard, they are often the
start of something new. A new experience, new friends, new memories.

So I will say a sad farewell to two people who have kept me
sane, shared a lot of laughter, but thankfully very few tears. I can only wish
them good luck.

No, perhaps I won’t say goodbye – perhaps I’ll just say ‘see
you soon’, and know that it’s not an ending, just a change – and change is
always good. Right?